


vignettes from a dream

by purplesucculent



Category: The Old Guard (Comics), The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, canon typical tomfoolery tbh - so i hope y'all r prepared?, i lied there's some angst but it's ALWAYS a happy ending so never fear, i said wow i really be writing fanfic as a form of self care, it's not the worst but like stay safe y'all!, just way too much fluff, literally way too much fluff, lowkey panic attacks, tw warnings stress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:35:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28138542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplesucculent/pseuds/purplesucculent
Summary: nicky and joe throughout their entire lives spent together in love, in the form of five snippets of various scenes from their very, very long lives. whilst it's not always sweet or perfect, there's always the certainty and the intensity of their love.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	vignettes from a dream

**Author's Note:**

> this is.... unbeta-ed so i'm sorry if it's literally incomprehensible! hope u enjoy!

**1 – Beirut, 1187**

Night had fallen and the sea could be heard from the distance. Waves, not crashing, but brushing against the seashore were dampening the golden sands. Yusuf came to put his arms around his love as they watched the peaceful night unfold from their window. Nicolò leaned back into his arms, sighing as Yusuf nuzzled his face into his neck, leaving a trail of feather-light kisses in his wake.

Bringing his hand up to cup the edge of Yusuf’s face, still as they both looked out onto the horizon, Nicolò pressed their heads closer together and stroked his love’s soft hair.

The light sounds of waves almost covered up Nicolò’s soft whispers as he turned to face Yusuf and said, “My love…”

“Yes, _hayati_?” Yusuf murmured back, just as softly.

“Thank you,” Nicolò finished, gazing up at Yusuf’s face, brushing stray curls away from his face. _Thank you for loving me, for teaching me, for giving me the opportunity to teach you, for staying with me, and for traveling this world with me, for I could not have imagined a life as sweet as this without you, caro mio._

Upon hearing those simple words, Yusuf tried not to tremble, for he too found himself eternally grateful for his Nicolò. Almost one hundred years together had proved the birth of a bond. He’d read a great poem somewhere call it an unbreakable rope, tying the two of them together for eternity, and although Nicolò spoke succinctly, the look in his eyes was enough to fill in any blanks for Yusuf.

Bringing their faces closer together, Yusuf paused before his lips brushed Nicolò’s as if he couldn’t quite fathom that he got to kiss him whenever he liked. Nicolò let out a light laugh, tightening his hold on his lover, before closing the gap for him, kissing him, finally.

**2 – Santiago, 1923**

“We have a job to finish, Yusuf,” Andy stated in her firm voice, yet still displaying care and a slight fear.

Joe couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t move. Nico was choking to death on his own blood. Again.

“Joe, Joe, look at me, we need to go. We need to get these people out of here. People who _won’t be able to get back out again_.”

A sob of utter anguish ripped out of Joe’s chest as Booker and Andy helped haul Nicky’s limp body up from the floor, placing one of his arms over Joe’s shoulder, and the other over Booker’s. Andy was saying something and pointing towards the exit, shooing Booker on and finally saying something to Joe which he still couldn’t hear.

All he heard was white noise and the sound of Nicky being crushed by parts of the collapsing mine.

_“Joe!”_

He had pulled him out right before he could have lost him, with more rubble falling from the ceiling as he had swiftly yanked him away.

_“Joe!”_

But now all Joe could see was Nicky taking too long to heal. Way too long to heal. _He couldn’t breathe_ -

“Joe! You’ve got to help me move him or none of us will be getting out of here anytime soon. Come on, he’s gonna be okay. I promise you,” Booker’s words had finally reached through to Joe, who looked at him in return and tightened his hold on Nicky’s waist, jostling his arm further around his shoulder then determinedly picked up his face, bringing them closer and closer to daylight.

Tears were still streaming down his face, sobs wracking through his chest as he placed his love down gently as they finally reached the outside. Collapsing to his knees, and taking his still limp hand in his, Joe held it close up against his lips, rocking back and forward, waiting for him to heal.

Booker had shouted to Andy ushering her back inside to help pull more people out as Joe wouldn’t be – and couldn’t be – moving anytime soon. It was useless to tear him away from his love now. Sometimes their many, many lives caught up with them, piling their trauma onto them all at once, making it seemingly impossible to shake.

This was one of these moments for Joe. He had suddenly become crippled by the weight of his lives, the things he had seen, and the ways his love and his loved ones had been taken away from him time and time again in the worst ways possible. It was something that simply happened. It had happened to them all before and would happen to all of them again. Even though they knew it was coming, it didn’t make it any easier when it hit full force - they just had to carry on through it. Like they always did.

Joe had tried to ground himself, squeezing Nico’s hand and stroking his thumb back and forth. He had been so concentrated on the movement that he hadn’t noticed Nicky’s weak, but definitely there, squeeze back.

The thing that had pulled him out again had been Nico’s other hand brushing his knee, and Andromache’s arm coming around his shoulder.

“We’re okay, _tesoro_ , We’re all here with you,” Nicky responded once his throat had begun to close up.

Booker placing his hand lightly on Joe’s head to let him know that he was there and Andromache bringing her other arm to join Nicky’s hand on his knee.

His breathing had calmed notably, but his eyes were still held tightly shut and tears made their way in tracks down his dust-covered face.

“Let’s go home,” Nicky added, starting to stand up, the others pulling Yusuf up with them.

* * *

The sun had set as the four of them had trudged back to their safehouse. Well, Andy and Booker had trudged, Nicky and Joe had held each other up as they staggered back to the safehouse – Nicky from the especially horrific death and Joe from the sheer weight of the day. Booker had persuaded Andy to give them some time alone after she had tried to help Nico keep a hold of Joe earlier on in their walk back. Needless to say, it hadn’t gone so well: Joe had kept breaking down in tears, apologising to Andy for not coming back in to help pull out some more survivors and then feeling bad because he _needed_ to next to his Nicolò when he came back from a death – they’d been separated in death far too many times before and Joe couldn’t bare searching, crawling on his hands and knees, shouting desperately for the one he loved, only to find that he wasn’t there. Joe, it seemed, had found himself in a bit of a spiralling-stress-guilt-circle and so, Booker had thought it best to leave the two of them alone, as did Andy, even though she wished to explain to Joe that he did all that he could have done - which was fantastic in any case - so he had needn’t worry at all. Of course, this would take a while until it actually sunk in for Joe, though.

Upon arriving at their safehouse, Nicky led Joe towards the bedroom, but not before nodding towards the door and Andy giving him a wink in return _Don't worry,_ – it had been her bed the night before, but they really needed the privacy tonight.

Once they had entered the room, Nicky had taken off Joe’s blood and rubble stained shirt, along with his ripped trousers, leaving them crumpled in the corner of the room. Leading Joe towards the bed, Nicky pulled back the covers and laid him down, foreheads touching the entire time. Bringing the back of Joe’s hand up to his lips, Nicky whispered: “Wait for me here, _amore mio_ , whilst I shower, ok?” Pausing momentarily to press a couple of kisses to his hands, Nicky took a look at Joe. A proper look. He looked so exhausted; all he needed right now was to rest. “Booker will bring you something to eat, too, my love.” Joe looked up at Nicky, reaching out to hold his hand, tears filling his eyes.

“Ok,” He managed to squeeze out, but not before Nicky could reassure him that he would be extra quick and back before he knew it. Joe nodded as he watched his love leave the room, letting his tears fall down his face.

Not long after, Booker walked in with a small plate of something. He immediately noticed Joe’s tears, walking over quicker and placing the plate of – what Joe could now see as apple slices (? Booker, what the motherfuck) onto the bedside table.

Collapsing onto the bed with a sigh, Booker pulled Joe into his lap and placed his hand on top of his head.

“You did great today, you know? Boss is proud of you.”

Joe sniffed, moving closer to Booker.

“Whose idea was fucking apple slices?”

Booker chuckled but didn’t answer, bringing his arm around Joe’s shoulders.

“Nico’s ok, you know he’s ok and he’s coming right back in a minute.”

Joe sighed and tried to stop crying, “Yeah, yeah, it’s just… it’s just _too fucking much_ right now, you know?”

Booker’s _“Yeah, I know, I knows”_ went unheard by Joe who had moved into Booker’s arms. Andy, who had been watching the two of them for the past few minutes, made her way over to the bed, pulling Joe’s legs onto her lap as she sat down.

“Come on, Joe. Have a couple of those apple slices. Booker slaved over chopping that lone apple up that we had left in the fruit bowl.”

“I did not struggle cutting that apple up, Andromache.”

“I didn’t say you did, Book.”

“It was all in your tone, Boss. Do _not_ mock my fine culinary skills!”

Andy chuckled, “You better not let Nicky hear that.”

“Too late,” The man in question replied from the doorway, holding a bowl and a flannel in his hands, “Now, get out of my bedroom before you insult me any further!” He laughed.

 _Alright, alright,_ Booker said, peeling Joe off of himself as he stood up, Andy doing the same. Before passing Nicky, she quickly cupped the back of his head, giving his forehead a kiss then exiting the room.

Nicky looked over a Joe who was faced down on their bed and made his way over, placing the bowl full of warm water on the bedside table, next to Booker’s apple slices.

“I don’t know where he gets the idea that he can cook from, honestly,” Nicky said, tutting slightly, as he gently pushed Joe further towards the wall, making a space for himself on the edge of the bed. He leant over placing half of the flannel into the bowl, squeezing some of it out before bringing it over to Joe.

“Up, my love,”

Joe nuzzled closer towards Nicky and turning his face. “That’s better, I can see you now,” Nicky smiled, bringing the flannel to tenderly scrub bits of dried blood and dust from Joe’s face.

Joe brought his hand up to fiddle with the clean undershirt Nicky had changed into, thumbing the soft material as his love cleaned his face.

“Are you okay, _habibi_?” He asked after a moment of flicking through the labels on the inside seam of Nicky’s t-shirt. He realised then that it wasn’t Nicky’s shirt, it was his, as were the pyjama bottoms he was wearing, too.

“Other side, I need to get your ear,” Nicky said gently moving Joe’s head to the side, “Not really, no, my love. Dying like that is not my favourite, but I know I’ll feel much better tomorrow after I’ve slept, not to worry.” He said, never breaking concentration, wiping the last of the blood that had been stuck in Joe’s ear. “And you, _tesoro_?”

“Honestly, I’m just really tired. I… I need a break for a bit. For a couple of years, maybe…”

“Shall we go to Malta again? We know Alexandria is always nice this time of year… or maybe Mumbai, we haven’t been there for a while?”

“Can we start in Malta?”

“Of course, we’ll tell Andy tomorrow. How should we travel to Valetta?”

“Maybe we could… go up to Brazil then sail to Sierra Leone, up through the continent, and cross through Tunisia?”

“Sounds wonderful, my love,” Nicky said, finishing up on Joe’s face, “There you are, gorgeous and clean again.”

He moved to lay next to Joe, propping himself up on the headboard and bringing Joe to lean upon his chest.

“Would you like any of these expertly prepared apple slices before they all turn brown?” Nicky asked, picking one up and bringing it next to Joe’s mouth, who opened his mouth in response, chewing slowly.

“Love you,” Joe began, mouth full of apple, “Thank you,” He finished reverently looking up at Nicky, who placed the apple plate back on the bedside table, switching the lamp off and shuffling them both so that they were lying down.

“I love you too, Yusuf,” He said, placing one last kiss on his lips before turning around so that Joe held him in his arms.

**3 - Malta, 1705**

Joe had his palm gently, barely tracing the outline of Nicky’s cheek as he slept. He brought his hand closer to his beloved’s face, and stroked it with the lightest of touches, sighing with contentment as he did so. Nicky’s face smoothed out, appearing more relaxed than before as if Joe had wiped away his bad dreams. The sun hadn’t begun to rise just yet, leaving the slight lightness before dawn to fill the room, enough so that Joe could see not solely in silhouettes. Shadows were contorting furniture around their bedroom, but Nicky's face was cast perfectly in the barely present light.

Joe moved closer and closer so that their noses were touching, pressing a kiss on his lips.

Finally, Nicky had woken up, letting out a sigh and bringing his arms up to encircle Joe, murmuring _“Good morning, my love”_ , into his chest.

Joe smiled, pressing another kiss onto his heart’s lips, nuzzling closer into his neck and bringing his hand up to cup the back of Nicky’s head, stroking his hand through his hair.

* * *

Yesterday, they had spent the day sailing from Tunisia to Malta on a mostly empty ship, as rains battered the sails and the wind blew them closer in the direction of their beloved home. Yusuf had managed to find passage on a merchant’s ship that was transporting goods over to the island for the season’s harvest by bribing the crew to allow him and Nicolò onboard.

The voyage had gone rather smoothly, and they were only interrupted by a harsh rainfall for a couple of hours during the night. The rainfall, however, had woken Nicolò and caused Yusuf to have a few nightmares as howling winds and relentless streams of rain beat down on the deck they were currently residing under.

A candle flickered in the far corner of the room that Yusuf and Nicolò had managed to steal for themselves away from the rest of the weary travellers scattered around the rest of it. The candle cast shadows upon the walls and the ceiling, revealing raindrops drip dropping through onto their heads. As one particularly large raindrop fell through the roof and onto Yusuf’s head, Nicky let out a huff of laughter, brushing it from his pouting husband's face as he was rudely awakened by said raindrop.

“It’s too wet,” Joe said, still pouting as Nicky had brought his shirt sleeve up to wipe his face.

“It was your idea to come during the rainy season, my love,” Nicky answered, tucking some of Joe’s stray curls behind his ears.

“Well, what else was I to do, _caro mio_? I had a grumpy husband who wanted to see his favourite beach again.” He smiled, reaching up to hold Nico’s fingers in his hand, brushing his thumb up and down his index finger.

Nicky stopped for a moment to smile at his love in the flickering candlelight, then he took in the rest of the room: a couple of families huddled together in the cold, lovers like them talking quietly amongst themselves as they clasped onto hands, hearts, and hair as the storm raged on outside. Luckily, there weren’t too many travellers boarded on the ship, since it was, after all, transporting foods. He looked back down to see Joe asleep in his lap, an arm encircled around his waist as the other still clutched Nicky’s hand.

That night, with Joe pressed up against him as they huddled together in the dark, was the first night Nicky had felt peace in a long time.

**4 - Marseille, 1896**

They’d found Sébastien two months ago. Well, Andromache had found him two months ago – she’d just arrived back in Paris with him. Whilst she had gone to Russia for personal time (in a war? Very odd, but whatever), Nico and Yusuf had stayed in France for their alone time.

But, anyway: they were now all in Marseille looking for passage on a ship to Sardinia. Business was to be held. Of what, Yusuf and Nicolò weren’t exactly sure since Andromache had been the one informed of said business on her way back from Russia with their new teammate.

The aforementioned new teammate was the one that had found them a ship – apparently, he’d lived in Marseille before leaving and 'joining' the army (they still didn't believe him on that one: he had criminal vibes... not that they judged him, but still,) – so, he’d definitely proved some worth to their little team – that was good. Yusuf had noticed his… less than pleasant, no, well – yes, but he means to say less than cheerful demeanour and had made it his plan to at least alleviate _some_ of the dark cloud surrounding his soul. And so, Yusuf had been spending his days getting to know Monsieur Le Livre – who he now had dubbed _Booker_ on the case of two things: his last name and his complete lack of knowledge of any piece of literature ever written. Yusuf liked to think he was hilarious – Nicolò told him he was, but he was biased.

Anyway, Yusuf had been telling Booker about all his favourite pieces of writing and even shown him some of his own, too. This seemed to have cheered him up, in Nicky’s opinion, and whilst he did miss Yusuf in the days he solely spent with Booker, he wasn’t too beat up about it. After all, most of the writings of Yusuf’s own that he had shown Booker were about Nicky.

_(“‘I watch him as he is simply a divine creation,_

_He is colours of paint,_

_Rich shades of warmth and cold,_

_Shades of which warm my very soul_

_in my promises of loving him,’ Now that one is an old one, you’ll have to forgive me, but dear Nico has always said it’s one of his favourites, so I was obliged to share it with you, Booker.”_

_“Not to worry, it’s… it’s the only thing that’s made me remember her well, remember loving her... and not this… wretched grief I have, looming everywhere- Thank you, Yusuf.”_

_At which point Joe blushed for those were the first kind words Booker had uttered to him, and Nicky, who was watching from afar, nearly ran and collapsed into his beloved’s arms - He was so fucking cute when he blushed.)_

Nicky’s missing of Joe continued the night they boarded the ship: Booker and Joe had joined some of the other travellers exchanging their most outlandish stories in the moonlight upon the deck. He and Andy had retired below deck to a corner they’d claimed as their own and tried to sleep – it was and had been dark for some time now and Nicky, to be honest, was struggling to keep his eyes open without any candles. However, as soon as his head hit the makeshift pillow in his little nest he’d made for himself and Joe, his mind did not stop whirring. And whirring. And whirring.

“Nicolò, I can hear your head screaming from over here,” Andy said after about two _relentless_ hours of tossing and turning. “Please, just go and find him. Or if they’re not finished, just sit with him.” She finished, flapping her arm over at Nicky and hitting his own arm a few times, just so that he knew she was definitely talking to him (In reality, it was her telling him to fuck off but words as such were not appreciated in the company of children – of which this ship had many).

Nicky, extremely exhausted at this point, hauled himself up out of his cocoon of blankets and onto his feet, staggering slightly and bracing himself on the ship’s wall.

“Where-” He cut himself off and let out a huge yawn, “Where were they again, Andromache?”

“The middle of the fucking deck, Nicolò?” She rolled over so that Nicky knew his question was stupid – where the fuck else would they be? There aren’t many places to go on a ship. She was right to be fair. Nicky’s brain had simply fried from his lack of Joe time – who could blame him?

Making his way up and out of the parts travellers had been permitted to sleep in, Nicky struggled to hear any noise up on the deck. No, he didn’t struggle – he didn’t hear any noise. No noise at all. _Ok,_ he thought, _that's fucking weird... W_ _here could they all be?_

There had been a rather large group of people left up upon the deck after Nicky and Andy had made their way to bed – so _where_ could they all have gone? Only a few parents had bought down their children to sleep, so a substantial number of people still had to remain on deck. _How strange_ , he thought, rounding a corner as he still heard no noise. _What the fuck_ , that thought finished as he came around the corner and saw not a single, solitary soul on deck.

“Joe? Booker?” He called out, only to be met with silence.

He walked a lap around the deck only to find that nobody was there. He did so once more, to check that he wasn’t going insane before he started to panic. _Where could they all be? [Where the everlovingfuck were they?]_

Making one more lap around the deck and seeing, once again, that no one was there, he officially allowed himself to start to panic, running back down to Andy.

“Andy, Andy, Andromache, wake up, please wake up,” He said, almost in tears, roughly shaking Andy’s body. His face had gone red from the speed at which he'd sprinted back to Andy. The lack of oxygen making him even more anxious.

“Nico- what the fuck?” She answered, taking in his appearance worriedly, pulling him closer to herself and stroking her hand on the back of his neck. “What happened? Nicky, what happened? Where’s Joe? Where’s the new one?”

Nicky, who had now started to hyperventilate, knocked his head forward against Andy’s. It had been a while since he’d cried quite so easily, however, he was tired, and he had due right to be worried – it wasn’t the first time their group had lost someone to the sea.

“I- I- I can’t find them. None of them. Nobody’s up there, Andy. Please, help me.”

Smoothing her hands down Nicky’s hair, Andy nodded in response, standing up and taking his hand in hers, quietly making their way out of the sleeping quarters and trying not to wake anyone up – they’d managed not to so far.

“Did you check up here?” Andy asked as they reached the deck, glancing up at the captain’s quarters.

“No… Why, why would they be up there?” Nicky said, wiping his face with his free hand, then sighing and letting out a laugh, “I didn’t think- I was too worked up when I didn’t see them- I didn’t look properly.”

“That’s okay, Nico. Let’s go and get them.” She said, soothing him despite his embarrassment. Of _course_ they were still on the ship – they would have heard something bad happening to that amount of people.

Climbing the steps up to the captain and the crew’s quarters, they began to hear muffled laughter. Andy turned to smile back at Nicky who was still wiping his face, now mostly in embarrassment as most of the anxiety had melted away. He was 800 years old and he forgot to check the entirety of the ship. _Well, everyone has their off days…_ He thinks as he tries to make himself feel better in his head.

Not even bothering to knock on the door, Andy walks inside, dragging Nicky alongside her.

“Yusuf al-Kaysani, Sebastian Le Livre! It is time for bed.” She said (shouted) simply. The rest of the people, along with the crew and the captain, turned to look at her and then the men in question. Nicky chuckled slightly, looking at his husband’s slightly shocked expression – Andy hadn’t full named him since a certain incident in 1409 which will remain redacted.

Joe, now noticing Nicky after hearing his laughter ( _his laughter!),_ saw his husband’s tear-stained face and red puffy eyes.

“Nicolò? _Stai bene, cuore mio?_ ” _Are you okay, my heart,_ Joe asked softly, so, so softly as he made his way over to Nicky, taking him in his arms and pressing feather-light kisses onto his face.

“Of course, I am. Just couldn’t find you... and I couldn’t sleep…” Nicky mumbled his face smushed into his husband’s shoulder, trailing off as he breathed him in. _Safe._

“Oi, let’s go, Bookman!” Nicky could have sworn he’d heard Andy say between the midst of Joe’s comforting, soothing words.

“-Really, I’ve had a great time with you all- I’d stay, really, but, my boss and her-ANDY, NO!- _our_ train wreck of a family need me to go!” Booker joked, laughing as Andy playfully slapped him upside the head, dragging him towards the exit by his ear.

Joe, swaying on the spot as he held Nicky, barked out a laugh at Booker’s response, before pressing a final kiss onto the side of his husband’s head. He pulled back and looked at his Nicky, taking his hands in his own.

“Did you really miss me so much, _habibi_?” He asked, though the unasked question still hung in the air. It felt very much like lead. _Are you still thinking of her? I’m so sorry, my love._

“Yes,” Nicky said, eyes filling with tears again, as they both turned to leave the room, “I don’t know how she does it. I couldn’t even-”

“Let’s sleep,” Joe said, pressing a kiss onto his forehead.

“I already would have been if you’d have come down earlier,” Nicky smiled, wiping his eyes.

“I’m sorry, my love, we lost track of time! The captain was telling us about his last adventure in the Balkans! We haven’t been there for a while and I do miss Greece-” Yusuf rambled, walking down to the deck, hand in hand with his beloved.

After 200 years and it still felt like an open wound: the loss of Quýnh. Nicky thought with a ferocious certainty, that he would never let it happen again. Never. He couldn't lose another one.

**5 - Melbourne, 1976**

Joe loved Australia: he loved how hot it was, he loved kangaroos (despite how terrifying they actually were - why were they 3 metres- that's _8 feet-_ tall?!), and most of all, he loved this coffee shop he and Nicky had found in the fifties, right next to the beach.

In fact, they were sat at a table outside of said café right now, the sun blazing down onto Joe’s head, whilst Nicky’s brain had been saved from heatstroke since he got the chair under the umbrella. Joe was _not_ drinking coffee since it was way too fucking hot for him personally to be able to withstand a piping hot cappuccino. Nicky, on the other hand, was on his third coffee and deeply invested within his book. So invested that he hadn’t even noticed he was on his third coffee – Joe had just kept ordering them whenever the level of coffee remaining reached dangerously low.

Booker and Andy had stayed in bed after their… drunk shenanigans the night prior. (Drunk shenanigans entailed getting that pissed they’d found a family of frogs _somewhere_ (?) and also proceeded to try and take them to the nearest zoo which was… far, to say the least, since they didn’t have a car and would have to walk… drunk… to the _closed_ zoo since it was 4 am.)

Joe had been content enough to sit and watch Nicky enjoy his book, decoding all of his tiny quirks as he read: that eyebrow and slight smirk making a dimple appear in his right cheek, however, after seeing all of that, he decided it was time to start sketching - he'd love to see them forever. He wouldn't sketch just Nicky – although at least five of the first pages he’d drawn that day had been his husband – but the people around him, the waves rolling onto the shore, and life passing him by, too. Joe loved to people watch.

An hour had passed by the time he looked up from his page, tens of them filled with doodles and sketches alike, to see Nicky gazing at him tenderly and smiling slightly in that way that he does. Staring for a moment, Joe’s mind began to whir on repeat _ilovethismanilovethismanilovethisman_ , until he was snapped out of it by Nicky’s leg hooking around his and his hand taking his own from across the table.

“Did you enjoy drawing, my heart?” Nicky said, pouring himself some water into Joe’s cup before taking a sip.

“I did. There was that funny seagull again – I managed to draw him this time.” Joe replied, showing him the sketch before leaning forward to bring his other hand on top of Nicky’s, who chuckled.

“I’m glad.”

“Did you enjoy your book, _hayati_?”

“I haven’t finished it yet, but I am still very intrigued.” He started, noting the empty coffee cups cluttering the table, “How many did I drink? I only thought there were two.”

“Hmmmm,” Joe said, trying not to giggle, “Four, in the end, don’t worry.”

“We should go on a walk so I’m not so hyper.”

To which Joe raised a playful eyebrow and swiftly received a nudge in the shin from Nicky’s foot – alongside a huff of laughter.

“Whatever will I do with you, _amore_?” Nicky smiled and leant back in his chair as Joe brought his hands to his lips.

“I don’t mind as long as you’ll stay with me forever.”

**Author's Note:**

> hey! thanks for reading! i hope you enjoyed it :)) comments and kudos are greatly appreciated if u wanna leave one
> 
> i'm on tumblr if anyone's curious @ distressedjoni


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